


What You Wish For

by Endangered_Slug



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance and shmoop, Stardust AU, and stars, rss 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 09:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9485210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endangered_Slug/pseuds/Endangered_Slug
Summary: RSS pinch hit for Shipperqueen93Rumplestiltskin makes a wish on a star which has consequences he never dreamed of.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Very, very loosely based (I mean you can squint maybe and see sort of it) on Neil Gaiman’s Stardust.
> 
> My prompts were Starry Nights, Constellations, bright kisses

 

* * *

 

 

Rumplestiltskin dashed over the fields on the far side of the Wall, deep into the heart of the Enchanted Forest. Dark, mysterious, and forbidden, no one dared enter the forest for fear of never leaving it.

Mothers warned their babes about the monsters who dwelled there. Those who would take delight in making a meal out of any human who dared to step one toe into the forest’s leafy embrace or the cruel beasts who lusted after the succulent flesh of a virginal maiden. It was said that the tax collectors came from the crack in the Wall like cockroaches every third moon after the new year, but no guard had ever seen them and most people thought it was all rot. Other things did reside in the Enchanted Forest and no one had any doubts about them, despite a total lack of eye witness accounts. Things best left alone. Ogres, trolls, gnomes, wyverns, dragons, caprids, sirens, kraken, bunyips, and yaoguai were only some of the creatures that lived somewhere in the dense foliage. Not to mention the more dangerous, _thinking_ creatures: both courts of the Unseelie and Seelie, pirates, djinn, sylphs, nymphs, witches and sorcerers, veela, goblins, leprechauns, vampires, werewolves, green men, banshees and wraiths, and vicious demons were all waiting for him inside that forest, but still Rumplestiltskin ran straight into the heart of it all despite it all.

He sought a star. He had watched as it fell to earth, one of a thousand stars dotting the inky black sky, when he was on guard duty. It was his turn in the monthly rotation to keep watch over the crack in the Wall and it was sheer luck that he was even looking in the right direction to see the glittering trail pierce the night’s sky. He’d been wishing again. Wishing with all his heart and it fell. The shimmering trail of stardust was beautiful as it arced overhead and Rumplestiltskin’s heart raced with anticipation once he realized what it was that he saw.

He abandoned his post. It was a shameful, cowardly act and left the village at the mercy of any beast that might wish to crawl through the jagged opening (despite the fact that it had never happened before). There had been a guard at the opening since time immemorable. Leaving his post would blacken his name indefinitely. No one would speak to him. No one would even look at him again. His name would be stricken from the village’s record books — which would be a cause for concern if more people other than the clerics knew how to read, but his erasure from the books would mean that he didn’t exist.

It was all for love of course. Milah, the dark-haired beauty of the tiny village who had bewitched him with her sultry smiles and intriguing necklines, had finally, and somewhat begrudgingly, agreed to marry him. But, she warned him, only if he gave her something more rare and precious than diamonds to prove his love. Her smile as she spoke to him was radiant, if a little cruel around the edges and her eyes gleamed like hard stones, as she waited for him to produce his gift.

At first, Rumplestiltskin thought she meant his love for what could be more precious than that, but he was laughed out of her parlor when he shyly declared that his heart was hers for the taking.

That had been almost a month ago and Rumplestiltskin spent his time mulling over what, if anything, could be more valuable than a diamond? He thought he had the answer with love. He pondered the question as he tended to his flock and thought about it as he spun their wool, the wheel mesmerizing in its endless rotations. He could think of nothing better than his original answer, but that clearly wasn’t satisfactory for Milah and he was determined on finding something that would satisfy her.

_A star_ , he thought as he watched its glittering path overhead, _would be more rare and precious than any jewel in the kingdom._

There was still time to turn back, to forget his foolish quest, but Rumplestiltskin was determined on gaining Milah’s love and respect and to do that, he had to retrieve that star. He’d deal with the consequences when he got back. If he got back. The village would probably be alright without a sentry on duty for one more hour. He only paused for a moment to look back towards the sleeping town. He could just pick out his modest cottage on the far edge of the village, empty and cold and waiting, then he looked towards Milah’s large house and at her bedroom window, hoping that she would instinctively wake up and look out over him as he went on his quest. She didn’t appear of course because it was three o’clock in the morning and no one but himself was up.

He lifted his fingers to his lips in a tribute to his love, silently promising that he would return soon with her heart’s desire. Then he turned and disappeared into the dark forest.

 

* * *

 

 

She fell screaming in a fiery comet that plunged her head first towards the looming earth. She didn’t know why it was her turn to fall out of the sky. Why that particular wish out of all the wishes she’d heard over the course of her life had pushed her away from her home. There was never any real reason to it all and no one had been able to explain it before. Wishes happened, some more than others, and, as no star had ever returned, all she had to go on was pure conjecture. She had always longed for adventure, but not at the cost of plummeting to death.

She landed with a booming crash, deep in a crater of her own making. When the smoke cleared, she wiped the dust from her eyes and took stock of herself. She was alive of course, stars were more resilient than that, but her ankle was snapped. It would take weeks to heal properly, mere hours if she could manage to crawl her way up out of the hole and to a healer who happened to have magic and took smiles for payment. Still, there was the more pressing matter that _she had been knocked out of the sky and was now trapped on earth._

An angry, wounded voice floated up out of the crater disturbing the night’s sky with a peevish, “Buggeritall.”

 

* * *

 

 

Rumplestiltskin quickly found a shining white path just steps from the meadow out of sight from the sentry post in the Wall. He stopped for only a moment to look back at the way he came, but the sheltering branches had already shifted as if there had never been a field or a town on the other side of it. The air inside the forest was warm and damp and smelled of decaying leaves and mushrooms of dubious pharmacological purposes. The moon had been nothing but a silver crescent and its thin light did nothing to dispel the foreboding blackness before him and yet the path sparkled like a jewel.

He followed it, stepping cautiously and wary of any impending doom that might descend upon him. He walked quickly, his steps pattering (no one of his stature would ever be accused of striding) as he tried not to dwell on the rumors of beasts and goblins and bogles — all willing and able to devour him in one frightening gulp, or worse, in teeny, tiny, pulpy pieces. His heart leapt to his throat with every hoot of an owl or rustling of a leaf in the otherwise still forest and he walked for hours, tense and ready to flee, before a slithering, skittering noise scared him out of his wits.

He screamed, jumping around like a startled cat to find a man standing in the middle of the path. Rumplestiltskin, having just walked through that very spot only seconds before, gaped at him, his mouth working like a fish just flipped out of a net.

The man’s face was hidden by a hood, but there was just enough of his mouth visible in the quickening light to show a glittering, scaly appearance. Something like a lizard, a bit like….

“W-who are you?” Rumplestiltskin asked, gulping down the rising fear.

The hood moved, cocking to the left as he studied him. “My name is Zoso. And I’ve been watching you.”

Rumplestiltskin looked over his shoulder, looking for the other person this mysterious man was so obviously talking to, but there was no one else around that he could tell.

“M-me?” he said as he whipped his head back, tapping his chest with a shaking finger.

The hood nodded and Rumplestiltskin found himself slowly nodding along with it.

“You’ve been moving fast for hours now, traveler. Fast and noisy and a damned nuisance to boot.”

The figure raised an arm, swishing his hand with a flourish and the world spun. Rumplestiltskin found himself yanked as if the man had found his shepherd’s crook and decided to herd him to… a small clearing in the early morning light.

He stumbled as they landed, just catching himself before he fell onto his face. The clearing was small ringed with stringy poplars that swayed with the wind which greeted their arrival. There was a small, welcoming fire waiting for them on top of which was a metal grate and a whistling tea kettle. It was homey as far as campfires went.

“Biscuit?” Zoso said, holding out a battered tin at him with a glittering hand.

Rumplestiltskin had been warned not to take anything offered to him by someone in the Enchanted Forest. Eating fairy food would keep you trapped on the wrong side of the Wall forever. This was beaten into them during their sentry training. Take nothing. Eat nothing. Say nothing. Well, he’d already broken the last rule.

He politely took one and pocketed it with the intention of tossing it away the first moment he could get away.

“You were following me,” he asked, deciding that the silence was worse than death and if he was to be killed, he’d rather get it over with thank you very much.

“For many years, Rumplestiltskin,” the man said, flipping back his hood to reveal more of his strange, mottled skin. It covered his flesh as if he’d fallen into a vat of rendered horse fat then rolled about in fish scales. It was odd to say the least.

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask how he knew his name, but the other man’s appearance stopped him from uttering anything more than a startled grunt. It mattered little how the man knew. He was obviously magic and magic had its own sort of rules. The more pressing matter was not his name but actually —

“ _Years_?”

“Aye. You’re a sight for sore eyes in these parts,” Zoso told him and Rumplestiltskin was given the surreal knowledge that he was anyone’s sight at all.  

Rumplestiltskin waited for Zoso to elaborate, but when he didn’t, he asked a bit testily, “Why have you been watching me for years?”

“I’m the keeper of wishes,” Zoso replied, mysteriously. Baiting him.

Oh gods.

“Is this - Is this one of those things where you speak in riddles and it takes a near death experience for me to figure it out?” Rumplestiltskin couldn’t read, but he listened to the stories and he was beginning to suspect he had walked right into one of those that ended up with children being knocked into an oven and eaten.

Zoso looked up at him and broke out into a spine-tingling cackle. “Maybe,” he wheezed.

Oh gods. He should have stayed at the Wall.

“We have a saying on this side,” Zoso told him, his voice crackling. “Be careful what you wish for.”

Rumplestiltskin gave a weak laugh, which was more of a sick wheeze than a laugh. “I, um, don’t know what you, oh gods—”

The dry, bone-rattling sound of a knife being dragged across a whetstone startled him mid-sentence. _Schhhhiiiiiiing… Schhhhiiiiiiing… Schhhhiiiiiiing…_

Rumplestiltskin watched in morbid fascination as Zoso slid a large knife across a flat whetstone. His eyes followed every pass just waiting for moment the other man decided to slice his throat with it. It was a strange knife. The edges were wicked and curvy instead of straight and there was some sort of decorative etching done to the blade, but it looked lethal just the same. He considered it a courtesy that it was being sharpened first. It would be less painful that way, he thought.

_Schhhhiiiiiiing_ …

“You are the boy who dared,” the man said, looking up to leer at him before going back to his sharpening.

_Schhhhiiiiiiing_ …

Rumplestiltskin bristled at that. He was no mere boy. Hadn't been for years, but alongside the warnings of not taking or eating anything he also felt an innate desire to not piss off the sparkly man with the scary knife so he let the comment slide.

“Dared what?”

Zoso was silent.

_Schhhhiiiiiiing_ …

“No, I mean it,” Rumplestiltskin insisted. “Dared what?”

_Schhhhiiiiiiing_ …

Zoso shrugged as if it was no matter. “You dared to dream.”

At last, after an eternity of demonstrating his knife sharpening skills, Zoso tested the blade with the side of a calloused thumb, nodded to himself once, then handed it to Rumplestiltskin handle first.

Rumplestiltskin shied away from it.

“This knife,” he said in a low, creaky voice. “Will give you all you that desire... and maybe a little bit more.”

Milah’s face flashed before Rumplestiltskin’s eyes. “Including - including love?” he asked eagerly, leaning closer.

Zoso’s mouth split open into a wide, crooked grin exposing jagged and black teeth and wheezed. “Depends on your definition of love,” he said after his levity passed. Then he leered, which was worse than the smile. “Tell me, what is it you desire?”

Rumplestiltskin stared at the knife, mesmerized. “I seek a star,” he said licking his dry lips.

“The one that fell on the other side of the Enchanted Forest?”

 

His head jerked up. “How did you know,” he asked rather stupidly.

Zoso just stared at him with an expression that told him exactly what he thought of that question. “It was a big sparkly in the sky. Who didn't see it is the question. Who isn't after it is the next question after that.”

“Why would you give this to me?” Rumplestiltskin asked, taking the knife from him, hefting its weight in his hands. It was lighter than it looked.

“Because it has your name on it,” Zoso replied, simply.

He looked at the squiggles on the blade, eying them warily. “This is my name?”

Zoso closed his eyes in irritation. “Take my word for it. Now just think about what you want.”

There were so many things, but at that moment he wanted nothing more than to retrieve that star before anyone else. Rumplestiltskin clutched the knife tight in his hand, closed his eyes, and the world turned.

He opened them again to find himself standing in a deep smoking pit. Rocks were strewn every which way, and trees lay scattered all about as if a giant had come by, swung his axe and left behind a great, big mess. It was bare and gray and desolate… all except for the small, beautiful woman in a golden gown sitting in the middle of it all.

“Hello!” he said once he remembered his manners.

The woman looked at him, a sullen sort of defiance in her eyes as she watched him creep closer. “H’lo,” she replied, sniffling.

“Are you hurt? Do you need help?”

She took a big shuddering breath and nodded her head. “My ankle. I think it’s broken.”

Now that she spoke more than three letters, Rumplestiltskin got a good dose of her accent. It was definitely foreign. Certainly not from his village nor any of the other villages he’d ever been to nor was it the same as Zoso’s. It was unforgettable. Almost as unforgettable as the mass of chestnut-colored curls that framed her face and her clear blue eyes, the color of the winter’s sky. He blinked and shook his head then blushed when he saw that she was staring at him still, waiting for him to either help her or move on.

He took a tentative step closer. “I, um… Shall I take a look at it then?” He’d had to doctor his sheep many times over the years. Surely a human ankle wasn’t that different from a ewe’s.

Her eyes flicked to the nasty knife held loose in his hand then back up to his face, looking at him as if she could see through his soul. Maybe she could.

“Fine,” she told him with a petulant huff.

He put his knife away and crouched down, carefully sliding the golden cloth up to reveal her leg. A part of his brain registered that the cloth was wholly unsuitable for any sort of travel. Impossibly thin and nearly transparent, it was silky and shimmered with every movement. Used to working with nervous sheep, Rumplestiltskin moved slowly and only touched her when necessary, his calloused fingertips just grazing the milky white flesh of her foot.

He gulped when he saw it, letting his eyes take in her bare feet, white and clean amid all the dirt of the crater and at how clean all of her was. As if she’d been dropped down from the sky. His eyes traveled up from her dainty toes up to her ankle.

He’d never actually been this close to a woman’s ankle before. He kind of wondered what the big deal was.

His examination was brief. Her ankle was very obviously snapped and he told her so in no uncertain terms after carefully covering it with the hem of her dress once more.

“I know,” she told him with another sigh, this time her breath hitching with unshed tears. “I’m trapped here… forever.” She looked up at the sky, rather dramatically Rumplestiltskin thought.

He scoffed at that. “Surely not forever,” he said as reassuringly as he could. “I’ll help you out of the pit and then we’ll find a healer or something shall we?”

“You’ll help me?” she asked, tilting her head at him.

“Sure. I just have to find my star and then I’ll carry you up.”

Another look, this time a blank sort of sneer that made it look like she had to sneeze. “Your star?” she asked flatly.

“Yes. I have to take it back to my one true love.”

She looked at him again, curiously, eying him up and down like a buyer at a cattle auction. “Someone... loves you?” she asked, dubiously. “Someone who doesn’t mind all…” she gestured at him with her hand. “This?”

He didn’t know what to say to that. He’d never been what some might call conventionally handsome, but he wasn’t a troll. Milah had never declared that she loved him, but she did agree to marry him so he must not have been that off putting. If he could bring back something more precious than diamonds that is.

“Have you seen it?” he asked, ignoring her question.

He was getting quite irritated with the large catalogue of looks she was able to produce, but this one showed exactly how stupid she thought him.

“ _It_? Are you stupid?” she asked, just in case her annoyed expression was too vague for him.

“Of course not.”

She folded her arms across her chest, drawing his attention to her flimsy clothing. She stared at him, her head cocked and glaring. “You could have fooled me. Look around,” she hissed, gesturing with one hand at the empty crater. “What do you see?”

It was difficult to look away from her. In his experience angry people tended to either hit or throw things or, worse, ridicule him until he was near tears. Taking your eyes off of an angry person went against every ounce of self-preservation, but he did as she asked, glancing around the barren pit until his eyes landed on her upturned face.

He slowly stood up, realization dawning. “A-are you the… star,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Finally,” she muttered to herself before lifting her chin proudly. “Yes. I’m the star. I’m also not an _it_ ,” she added with a sniff.

“I’m sorry,” he said, truly sorry for his words. “I didn’t know stars were, uh, people.” That explained her ethereal beauty and the strange way she was dressed. He didn’t have any sartorial knowledge of the heavens, but it seemed that a star would have no use of a corset or petticoats. It never occurred to him to wonder if a star needed any clothes at all.

“Well, now you do.”

“What’s your name? I’m Rumplestiltskin.”

She wrinkled her nose at him in sympathy. “Oh. Oh, that is sad.”

He shrugged. It wasn’t the first time anyone made that comment. “And do stars have names or should I just call you Twinkletoes?”

She rolled her eyes at him before turning her gaze up at the sky again. It was a warmer blue now that the sun had risen over the ridge of the crater and the ground around them shone with dew. It would have been beautiful if they weren’t sitting in the middle of a pit.

“My name is Belle,” she told him, wistfully.

“That’s a beautiful name,” he told her sincerely.

She gave him a weak smile, barely glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “Thank you.”

“And I’m very sorry,” he told her with great sincerity as he knelt down to carefully pick her up. She was light. Barely weighed anything at all despite her solid appearance and Rumplestiltskin was left wondering if this was really happening or if he’d fallen asleep at his post back at the Wall. He hefted her up, cradling her against his chest and began the slow climb out of the crater with the train of her gown trailing behind them.

“Why are you sorry?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Because I have to take you with me.”

“What! No!” She struggled against him, but he clasped her tight against his chest.

“Just to show you to Milah. I promised her something greater than diamonds.”

“You’re _giving_ me to someone?” she spat out, aghast.

He glanced down at her, noting her horrified expression. “No, of course not. Well, _yes_ , but no, not really. We’ll just go to Milah’s house, I’ll ‘give’ you to her and then, after she agrees to marry me, you can cross back over the Wall again and everyone will be happy. No one’s going to _keep_ you. That would be absurd.”

“Are you entirely stupid?” she spat out. “What if she doesn’t agree to marry you? What if she does try to keep me? Then what? Put me down!”

He rolled his eyes. “She said she would marry me and she won’t keep a person. Look, it’s a long walk back to my village and your ankle’s broken. We’ll find a healer, get you fixed up, and then it’ll be a breeze.”

“A breeze. Sure. Whatever you think.” She muttered under her breath, “idiot.”

Trying to climb out of a crater while carrying another person was more difficult than he had imagined, but, after a few false starts, Rumplestiltskin found a sort of path that was manageable. Belle squirmed as they reached the top, seemingly ready to crawl to a healer rather than be carried by someone who was bent on kidnapping her. Rumplestiltskin set her down carefully so as not to jostle her ankle too hard.

He found two sturdy branches, which he fashioned into splints then tore the hem of his shirt off to wrap around her ankle. She had more dress then he had shirt, but he was loath to tear it as the fabric was so fine and she had nothing else with her. The field dressing complete, he used another long branch for her to use as a crutch and with some practice she was able to hobble alongside him.

He thought she might try to run the other way, but he figured with her broken ankle there was nowhere for her to go. And he would be able to catch her if she tried.

“I just want you to know that I find you completely monstrous and I’m only coming with you because you helped me out of that crater and I literally have no place to go,” she told him after an hour’s walk.

He stared at her. Her face was red and glistening from the effort of walking with the crutch and possibly from the pain of her ankle. He’d kept the pace slow so as not to inconvenience her too much, but perhaps even that was too fast. He came to a stop.

“I promise I’ll bring you back,” he told her solemnly.

“After you carry me over that Wall of yours?” she snorted. “No need. Once I’m over, I’ll be there for good.”

“What d’you—”

His question was interrupted by a loud, grumbling noise that startled three crows out of a nearby tree.

He spun around, expecting to see a bear come chasing up the path. “What was that?”

Belle looked embarrassed, rubbing her stomach with one hand. “‘M hungry,” she mumbled.

“Do stars eat?” he asked before looking around to see if someone had laid out a three course meal for them. It was a day for strange things so he wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d found anything, but seeing as how there was nothing, he only grimaced in sympathy before turning around again to continue to walk.

“We can eat just as soon as we find a hut or a healer or— Oh! Wait! I have this!” He pulled out Zoso’s biscuit that he had in his pocket, picking off the larger pieces of lint as he held it out to her.

Poor Belle was so hungry, that she didn’t even mind that it was a bit crumbly and a bit dirty. She took a large bite and promptly fell unconscious.

“Belle!” Rumplestiltskin cried out, catching her in his arms. “Oh no. Oh no! I knew it had to have been a trick. Belle, I am so sorry,” he yelled in her ear, hoping that some part of her heard him. He laid her down carefully underneath the shade of a tree, making sure her head was cushioned and then sat back pondering what to do. He should go for help, but he couldn’t leave her alone in the forest. Maidens were routinely kissed awake, that is, _if_ they were lucky.

He pried the biscuit from her fingers, brushing off any crumbs that might have stuck to her hand.

What to do? What to do?

Rumpelstiltskin looked around. The path they were one was narrow and unused except for maybe deer. There was no one for miles and it might be days or weeks before anyone passed by. He rubbed a hand over his forehead trying to make a decision. He couldn’t leave her and yet, he couldn’t exactly take her with him.

So he did the only thing he could do. He took a bite of the biscuit and passed out over her chest.

He opened his eyes to Belle’s face looking at him with worry as she shoved at his shoulder.

“What happened? Did we die? Am I to spend eternity with you after all?” she asked, pushing him off of her.

He sat back on his heels, shaking his head to try to get the fuzzy cobwebs out.

“I knew that biscuit was a bad idea.”

“What, you ate it? Are you stupid?”

He sat up, holding his head. “I just didn’t want to leave you alone.”

She stared at him, open-mouthed for a long time before she quietly asked him if he was okay.

He nodded his head and looked around. It was dusk and the stars were beginning to blink in on by one as the last of the sun’s rays faded over the horizon The sky was at that beautiful hour where everything turned blue. His favorite time of day and instinctively he looked up into the sky to look at the stars.

“They’re beautiful,” he murmured softly.

“What are?”

“The stars. Can you see them as people from here or are they the twinkly dots that I see?”

She made a face at him, shaking her head with a silvery laugh. “I see them as we are. I suspect my eyesight is better than yours in this.”

His eyesight had already begun failing him late at night after a long evening of spinning by the low firelight so he didn’t doubt her.

“Where are you from?” he asked, then at her incredulous look, he clarified. “I mean, up there? Where did you fall from?”

She tore her eyes away and looked up, finding the place where she was supposed to be and pointed at it. “There. Amid the spiral.”

He followed her finger to the spot. “The Rose?”

“What?”

“That’s what we call the constellation. What do you call it?”

“It’s just my home,” she said, peering up. “I don’t see a rose.”

“No, look,” he said, scooting over until they were nearly cheek to cheek, pointing his finger at the lowest one. “Look, there are four stars there that make up the stem, three more on each side are the leaves. And then there are another eight that make up the rose itself. Except now it’s missing the— oh. Oh sorry, I didn’t think,” he said apologetically. “I’ve wished often on the brightest star. Turns out it was you,” he said with an awkward laugh.

“I get a lot of wishes,” she whispered. “But stars don’t have any power to grant them. Only the very powerful wishes come true and even then only sometimes.”

He sat back again, giving her space. “I had no idea they were people, but now that I do I think they’re even more miraculous than before.” He turned to look at her, her face pale and soft in the thickening night. “What do stars do?”

She licked her lips and turned her face upwards to let the starshine bathe over her. “We… shine.”

He chuckled, a low rumble deep in his chest. “That’s a far cry better than sheep farming I imagine.”

She looked at him for a moment. “Maybe. I guess it depends on if you like sheep farming or not. Do you?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I do. I mean it’s not much, but it’s not bad. A bit lonely sometimes, I guess.”

“Same with being a star,” she told him with a wry, half smile.

They were silent for a while, listening to a choir of crickets singing to them in the bushes. In the distance there was a rustling of something small and furry, a field mouse scurrying back to its nest before the owls started their nightly hunt. There was nothing but the two of them watching the stars above who were, apparently, also watching them.

“I’m sorry you fell,” he told her about an hour after moonrise.

Belle had no reply for him, but he heard a quiet sniffle a few moments later.

They sat there for hours as the heavens moved across the sky before they fell asleep, one after the other, in the thick clover under the tree.

The sun woke them up and Rumplestiltskin sat up with a groan. “Stupid biscuit,” he complained holding his head. “Never gonna eat any ag— what are you doing?”

Belle had been scooting away from him on her rump and was already three trees away when he caught her.

“I was trying to relieve myself,” she said, a rose-tinted flush spreading across her cheeks.

He flushed with her. “Excuse me. I’ll let you, er, get on with…” He watched as she dragged herself backwards, the hem of her dress trailing through  the dirt and leaves. “No, you’re gonna need help.”

“I don’t want your help,” she replied without stopping.

“How are you gonna do it then if you can’t even stand up.”

She stopped long enough to give him another annoyedone of her ‘you’re an idiot’ looks. “Woman don’t stand up to do this, you know.”

He heaved a big sigh and ran a hair through his hair in frustration. “I mean, you’re helpless and you’ll need to balance or… something.”

She turned away from him and doubled her efforts. “I really don’t want to discuss this with you or think about it.”

Rumplestiltskin got up with a groan, dusting the dirt off his trousers. His hand knocked against something large and heavy. The knife Zoso had given him.

Ohhhhhh, Belle was right. He was an idiot.

He took it out and looked at it. The letters that were supposed to be his name were inlaid along the blade. It looked both beautiful and sinister. Kind of like a snake or a spider.

“Belle,” he said, looking up. “I have a solution to your problem.”

She looked up, her eyes narrowing when she saw the knife in his hand. “Killing me won’t solve my bladder issues, Rumplestiltskin.”

Well, actually, they would, but he had no intention of doing anything that drastic.

“This knife is magical,” he told her lifting it up so she could see the writing. “I can heal your ankle.”

She gaped at him. “And you’re just telling me this now?”

“I’m sorry,” he told her, contritely. “I forgot about it until now.”

She watched him as he came closer, looking straight up at him as he loomed over her then back down as he crouched next to her. “Where did you get the magic knife?” she asked as if she couldn’t believe he’d have anything so powerful in his possession.

“A man with sparkly skin gave it to me yesterday,” he admitted. “He said it would give me my heart’s desire. It took me straight to you.”

She scoffed. “I’m hardly your heart’s desire,” she pointed out.

“No, I wanted the star.”

“I see.” She took a deep breath and let it out steadily. “So you’ll heal my ankle and then?” she asked lifting an eyebrow, questioningly.

“You have to promise me you’ll come back to my village. Promise me and I’ll use the knife to heal your ankle.”

“And after we reach the village, then what?”

“Then I’ll escort you back through the Wall and you can… what do stars do?”

“Here on Earth?” She shook her head. “No idea.” She thought for a moment, watching him for any sign of deceit. “You promise to release me?”

He nodded, solemnly. He never broke his promise and he had no intention of doing so now. “You have my word.”

Her eyes flit over his eyes, darting from his left eye to his right before she blinked and nodded looking down at her lap. “Then you have mine. I will go with you.”

“It’s okay, Belle,” he told her, ducking his head to look at her eyes. “It’s not forever.”

Rumplestiltskin hefted the knife in his hands once more. He didn’t know what he’d done before that had activated the knife’s magic. Zoso told him to think about what he wanted and the next second he’d found himself standing in front of Belle. This time, when he closed his eyes, he wanted nothing more than for her ankle to heal properly so he thought of that. Of bones knitting together and muscles repairing themselves and the swelling going down.

A sharp hiss made his eyes fly open, but he was instantly knocked over as Belle got up and darted away into the woods.

“Hey wait!” he cried out, reaching to catch the hem of her dress to stop her. She’d promised! He’d been so stupid to trust her.

Her voice called out from behind a tree. “I have to pee!”

He let his head fall back to the ground in defeat. Right. That. Ah well, at least with the knife they were only seconds away from the Wall. He could wait another couple minutes.

 

* * *

 

 

Three days later they were still walking. Their path had widened and became more regular with obvious signs of travel, but they had yet to come across anyone else. They’d foraged for food along the way, but the berries and hard roots were unsatisfying when you were traveling and he longed for a nice juicy leg of lamb.

He carried the knife in his hand, gripping it tightly in the hopes that they would be transported to the Wall, or a tavern, or a cottage with a friendly family and an abundance of meat. At the very least a rabbit slow enough for him to catch. Nothing worked and he was confused because right then and there he wanted nothing more than a hot meal and a soft bed.

Neither appeared.

“Maybe you can’t use it two times in a row,” he said for the seventh time that morning.

“It’s been three days,” she pointed out. Her hands were on her hips and she looked around at the trees, searching for something.

“Well, it’s a delicate magic.”

“I bet,” she said, noncommittally.

“Or, maybe it ran out of magic,” he suggested with a sinking feeling.

“Could be that.”

“Or—”

“Or maybe you don’t want to go back to your village enough,” she retorted irritably. “Let’s just go.”

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked, stumbling a bit after her. After three days of hard travel he was in desperate need of a bath, but Belle was as spotless and ethereal as ever. She seemed to repel dirt and sweat and mosquitoes. It seemed like she’d just stepped out of an antechamber and into a throne room to greet her subjects instead of trudging along through the wilderness with him.

“Of course I am, but there is literally nothing I can do about it. I can’t hunt and neither can you apparently. We are trying to eat our weight in berries like birds and then we walk it off in a matter of miles until we’re starving again.” She put her face in her hands and groaned. “I just want this over with.”

As she spoke, a large, fat rabbit darted across the path and stopped just on the other side. It stood up on its legs and watched them, its pink nose twitching and soft velvety ears standing up on high alert. Its fluffy tail wagged once.

They stopped in their tracks and looked first at it then at each other. Belle shrugged a shoulder, giving him silent permission.

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh yeah, that’s much better,” he told her after nibbling the last bit of meat off a thin leg bone.

“What are we going to do with this?” she said, gesturing to the rabbit pelt he’d laid out. She’d torn through her portion of the rabbit, exhibiting an appetite that was both frightening and impressive. Now she eyed the haunch that he was currently eating with obvious interest.

He looked at the fur, wondering why he’d been so careful in skinning it. He didn’t have time to tan it and he certainly didn’t want to bring it with him. “Find another rabbit and you’ll have a nice pair of mittens,” he told her, absently.

“Mittens?” she asked, dubiously.

He nodded, tossing the bone in the fire. “Gets cold here and you’re…” he glanced at her legs, which were exposed from the shins down. “Under dressed for the winter.” He looked at her delicate hands. “But if we don’t come across another rabbit, I can make a muff for you.”

She huffed a laugh. “What’s a muff?”

He held out his hands demonstrating. “It’s a-like a tube that you stick your hands in to keep them warm. Cozy.”

“Cozy is an important word to you, isn’t it?” she said unexpectedly. “You’ve mentioned it before. Your cottage is cozy, your sheep are cozy. You want your life to be cozy. Don’t you long for adventure?” she asked, leaning forward earnestly.

He stared at her open mouthed. He’d never thought about adventure before. He didn’t have the luxury of it. His life, while fine, was a constant toil of survival. Day to day, winter to winter, year to year. It wasn’t like he could pick up and leave.

“I’m on an adventure now,” he pointed out.

“And then what? You’ll settle down and get married and have cozy children with your cozy wife in your cozy cottage?”

That actually sounded very nice to him, but, while before he’d often pictured Milah by his side, over the past few days and in between irritations and hunger and silly squabbles, Milah’s face had faded to be replaced by another, sweeter one. He’d never thought of himself as an inconstant man. He loved fully and wholly, but lately, he’d been wondering if he’d placed his love in the wrong hands. Belle was testy and she called him out constantly, but she was also kind and patient when he was learning new things. She seemed to understand that his world had been pretty narrow up until then and that, while a bit ignorant, he was a willing learner. She helped him through this struggle and promised to follow him even though she really didn’t have to. He wouldn’t chase her down if she ran off. He wasn’t cruel.

“You don’t like that idea?” he asked as casually as he could.

“Being tied to one spot? I’ve spent an eternity doing that. Now I have the freedom to move around and it…” she smiled at him. A truly genuine smile that made the flock of butterflies that had taken residence in his stomach three days ago take flight. “I love it!”

“Families can travel. I’ve seen caravans. They come through the village sometimes.”

“I’ve seen that, too. From up there,” she said, pointing towards the sky. “I see so many things and I’ve always wanted to do them. When I first fell I was so angry, but now?” she shook her head helplessly, a tiny smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “I’m thinking I should have jumped ages ago.”

He cleared his throat. “Um… how old are you?” He himself was in his thirtieth year. A bit old for settling down, but it was important to wait for the right person to settle down with wasn’t it?

She gave him a coy smile. “Very old. I saw your village emerge from the first small hut to what it is now. I’m not the oldest star, but there are many younger than me. I’ve seen…” she trailed off, her smile wiped from her face as she looked at her hands. “Terrible things. Wars. Famine. People doing things to other people that are unspeakable.”  

She looked up at him then, her eyes shining brightly. “But I’ve seen great things, too. I’ve seen such love that it made my heart ache and my body want and I don’t understand it. It gives me some hope for humans. You’re not all bad,” she conceded with a half laugh.

He looked away, something inside him down in his belly slowly bubbling up until it clogged his throat. He shifted uncomfortably then, with barely a glance at his food, handed Belle the rest of his rabbit. He wasn’t hungry anymore. He felt… he felt. That was it. He was feeling and it was bad and good and amazing all that the same time and he wanted to scream only he didn’t know why or what.

Up until this point, Rumplestiltskin had led a pretty uneventful life. His mother left sometime shortly after his birth and he was raised first by his father, who then ran off shortly after his seventh summer, and then by two kindly aunts.

No one had asked, but he figured that was because he lived in a small village and everyone knew everyone else’s business.

Once his aunts passed away, he kept up their tiny farm as best he could, tending the few sheep out in the meadows and spinning their wool in the evening. It was a comfortable existence, if lonely, and by no means was it exciting. Exciting for him would be if one of his sheep got lost or if his yarn sold for more than he received the year before.

It didn’t occur to him to want more. He liked the quiet steadiness of his farm. At least he had until he’d found Belle inside the crater. He’d wished so hard that night. Wished and wanted. It felt so strong to him at the time, but perhaps it wasn’t so much that he’d wanted but that he’d hoped.

They were quiet for a while and when Rumplestiltskin spoke again, it was a hoarse whisper. “Where do you want to go next?” he asked, glancing at her from beneath the fringe of his hair. He’d been thinking about the knife and why it hadn’t been working for him before until Belle said she was hungry. It could have been coincidence that the rabbit crossed their path. Or it was wanted.

She looked at him, curiously. “How do you mean?”

“Well, I mean if you could go anywhere… where would you go?”

She laughed. A tinkling sound that instantly made his heart beat faster and his face flush. “Ohhhhh, there’s so many places,” she said, thinking it over. “I think I’d like to see the ocean.”

Rumplestiltskin touched the knife with the finger and the world spun around them.

They were on a sandy beach with the distant cry of gulls circling above them and the soft rumbling of gentles waves rushing onto the shore and being pulled back with a foamy hiss. The air was salty but warm and there was no one for miles, just as it had been back in the forest.

Belle had gasped when the world shifted, but the moment she saw the water, she got up and ran to it, wading into the water until she was in up to her knees and she turned around, her face lit up from within and smiling with such joy that Rumplestiltskin couldn’t imagine anything sweeter than this moment.

She reached a hand in and splashed, seeming to enjoy nothing more than hearing the sound of her hand smacking at the water and relishing the novelty of it. Schools of tiny fish darted around her and she spent a ridiculous amount of time following them in a circle, holding her hair out of her face as she tried to track their erratic patterns.

The ocean was turquoise, the sky above was a soft blue, and Belle’s eyes, as they looked at him with laughter were the color of bluebells he found out in the copse behind his cottage in the springtime and Rumplestiltskin idly wondered if blue had always been his favorite color or if that was something that just happened.

He averted his eyes when she finally splashed out of the water completely soaked through. Her dress, though pretty, was impractical no matter where they were, but at least in the woods it didn’t cling to her form quite so _much_. Nor was it, strictly speaking, as transparent when dry.

He brought his knees up and rested his chin on them until he got his thoughts under control again. He’d have to find her a new dress. Or a jacket at least.

He waited until she had settled next to him, holding her hands out to the fire before he shrugged out of his weather beaten jacket and handed it to her. Her hair hung in long, thick ropes that curl at the ends as water droplets trailed down her arm.

She took it with a startled “thank you” which he shrugged off with a haphazard smile that he directed towards her knees. She didn’t seem to need shoes, but she might like them when the weather turned. Maybe. Probably. It was high summer now, but soon the leaves would turn and the bitter cold after it. One of his ewes had given birth to twins in the spring giving him the luxury of culling his herd and he knew precisely which of his old sheep he would slaughter to make a good pair of boots for her. Sturdy on the outside and soft with wool on the insides. And maybe a shawl to cover her bare arms and keep her warm at night.

“Are you okay?” she asked, tilting her head to look at him.

Startled out of his reverie, he nodded his head reassuringly, still averting his eyes lest they stray to places better left to themselves. “Yeah, I’m just thinking.”

That was enough of an answer for Belle because she smiled and turned her attention back to watch the water ebb and flow over the wet sand.

The fire was getting low and so he busied himself with finding wood. Enough to see them through the night. The bits of driftwood he fed into it turned the flames a startling green and blue and he wondered if it was part of the magic of Belle or the knife or him that made it that color.

When the daylight began to fade and the last gull flew off to its home in the cliffs, Belle turned to him, thoughtfully.

“Thank you so much, Rumplestiltskin. I can’t tell you what this means to me.”

She was dry now and, therefore, safe to look at again. She was beautiful. Her chestnut hair glowing like a halo in the firelight, curling up about her face while her eyes shone brightly.

“I’m glad it worked,” he told her, truthfully.

“But now we’re further away from your village,” she pointed out.

He shrugged a bit and looked away. “S’no matter. The village isn’t going anywhere.”

She hummed at him, a soft sound from the back of her throat that sent the wind whispering after it. It felt familiar somehow and he wanted to ask if all the stars sang, but she looked so content that he didn’t want to interrupt. He looked down at the knife that lay next to his fingers.

“So, uh… Where else were you thinking of going?” he asked, touching the handle with his pinky finger.

The humming abruptly stopped as she shook her hair out of her face with a soft chuckle.  “Right now? A hot bath in a cozy inn,” she told him with a wide, impish grin.

The world spun and he found himself alone in a large room, a high, narrow bed topped with a colorful quilt in the corner and copper tub in the corner filled with scented, steaming water set before a crackling fire. A muffled squeal from the room next door told him that he hadn’t left Belle behind on the beach and he smiled to himself as he slowly peeled off his clothes and stepped into the tub.

The next day, refreshed and well-fed, they set off again, this time bringing with them a change of clothes and some supplies, which Rumplestiltskin carried with him in a sturdy pack. Belle, had also managed to procure a small flute from somewhere and, as they walked towards the next town, she began to play. Terribly.

Truly it was the worst noise he’d ever heard in his life. Rusty wagon wheels make prettier music than the petrified notes that Belle was producing.

“You’re going to attract bears,” he complained after the four hundredth shrill note that shredded his ear drums. He thought his ears might be bleeding. If he was lucky, he’d go deaf.

“I’ll do no such thing,” she replied with a pout. “And I won’t improve unless I practice so I’m practicing.”

“Why did you even bring that?”

“I’ve always wanted to play an instrument and this one was the most portable one I could find.” She stuck the reed back in her mouth, puffed out her cheeks and blew, the result of which sent a flock of pigeons flapping away as fast as their wings could go.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, but he couldn’t deny her reasoning even if he could fault her choice in instrument, so he shambled on ahead mumbling to himself about stars and their strange fascination with human things.

They stopped at noon for lunch and, while Belle’s new torture device was put away, he asked where they should go next.

“Don’t you want to go home?” she asked.

“Do you?”

She shook her head. “Nope,” she said, with a mysterious smile. “How about… a carnival? I’ve never been to one.”

Technically, she’d only been to the beach, the woods, and a small inn so no matter where they went it would be new to her, but Rumplestiltskin seemed to be able to deny her nothing and so, with the touch of his hand to the hilt of his knife, they went swirling about until they landed, stumbling, at the entrance to a fairgrounds.

Music and laughter and the aroma of fire roasted food greeted them as they walked through the banners. Belle’s eyes were everywhere, looking around in a childlike wonder and he found himself trotting after her as she darted from booth to booth and trader’s stalls and bandstands.

Belle wasn’t the only one in awe for as much as he’d been to a market or a fair, he’d never seen one that was populated with other folk. Fairies and dwarves and people with skin like the bark of a tree or who shimmered like liquid night crowded around among the more ordinary. People with wings and horns and tusks and spikes and more than their fair share of eyeballs or arms and who spoke more languages than he knew existed surrounded them.

He felt very plain.

Very ordinary.

Mediocre.

He stuck out like a broken tooth.

Belle, though. Belle stood out in a different way entirely. There was no one exactly like her in the carnival, but she belonged. Belonged with these extraordinary people in a way he could never hope to be.

It would be cruel to tear her away from this, even if it was just for a few hours’ time.

He couldn’t give someone a person even symbolically.

He’d have to let her go.

He’d have to return to the village.

He’d be branded a coward who deserted his post and ran off in the middle of the night. Milah wouldn’t have him, which was fine because he didn’t precisely want her now, but now, not even the beggars would talk to him. He’d been relying on the goodwill of his closest neighbors to look after his flock, but, now that he thought things through, they’d probably already divided his sheep up amongst themselves.

He hoped the lambs survived. They had been growing fat and would make a good meal or two for a hungry, growing family.

There may not be anything left to go back to. He supposed he’d find out.

He watched Belle all day. They sampled the food and drink and spent some time with a musician gracious enough to give Belle a lesson much to Rumplestiltskin’s relief. It didn’t exactly help. She chatted with anyone and everyone and no one was too lowly for her notice or too princely to approach.

She stayed at the bookseller’s longer than any place else, marveling over the written word and how it was used to tell a story or give information on any subject imaginable. She’d never learned to read, but it seemed to just come to her anyway. She knew languages, too, for everyone’s wishes found their way up to the stars eventually.

It seemed like she could do anything she wanted to do. Except play that infernal flute.

He waited until she was too distracted with a hand-colored page depicting how mountains were made (they were the spiny backs of sleeping dragons buried long ago as everyone knew) when he told her.

“I think I was wrong before?”

A distracted smile lifted the corners of her lips, but she didn’t look at him, the history was too interesting for that. “This _book_ is wrong,” she told him, absently.

“I don’t want to take you to Milah anymore.”

Belle looked up, sharply and stared at him, her mouth slack with surprise. She slowly closed the book and set it aside without a glance. “What?” she whispered.

It felt like his voice came from far away and felt thick like honey. He wanted to look away, but he felt trapped by her searching gaze. “I can’t give you to someone. It’s wrong — I was wrong. I release you from your promise,” he told her.

Her mouth moved soundlessly before she found her voice. “Why the change of heart?” She blinked at him, her blue eyes staring, seeing right through him.

“There’s no change of heart. I mean, now that I’ve met you… I realize that Milah… is probably not the right person for me. Or maybe I’m not the right person for her if she has to demand payment for her love.”

“She demanded payment?” she asked with a huff of annoyance.

“It’s custom to offer a gift when you declare your intentions.”

“Strange custom. Wouldn’t your heart be enough?”

He had to laugh at that because it hadn’t been enough and that alone told him how foolish he’d been all along.

“So… I can go then?”

Rumplestiltskin stopped laughing.  “You could have all along, really. I never would have forced you. But, yes. You’re free to do… whatever you want.” He swallowed thickly, trying to keep the corners of his mouth from turning down into a permanent scowl. He was doing the right thing, he knew it. If only it didn’t hurt so much.

She nodded her head and looked away. “Just the same,” she said, softly. “I think I’ll stick around just a bit. If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t. I’ll stay too until you decide where you want to go.”

She gave him a tremulous smile then turned back to her book, but he could tell by the way she was biting her lip, that her mind wasn’t on the pictures before her.

They stayed at the fair all day until night closed in on them and one by one, lamps and torches were lit and a large bonfire was set ablaze to the raucous cheers of the festival goers. A drummer started up a steady beat joined by other musicians as they took up their instruments. The dancing started up almost immediately after and, before he could protest that he really didn’t dance thank you anyway, he found himself pulled into the fray as the song was taken up.

She pulled at him, this way and that in graceful movements that made his head spin. She wound around him, lithe and magical and amazing and he did his best to keep up, but mostly he felt like he was just spinning in circles while she danced until the revelers around them blurred and he only saw Belle.

They danced and sang and laughed until they were breathless. She shone and Rumplestiltskin didn’t know if it was the firelight that did it or if it was just something she did naturally.

She was a star. It was probably natural, but that didn’t make it any less miraculous.

Belle stood on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear and he nodded once before touching the knife.

The bonfire melted away and they were standing at the edge of the meadow leading up to the Wall. He could see the guard at the crack in the distance and the torches along the stonework.

He turned to her, puzzled. The butterflies were back. This time they were armored and attacking his gut with poisoned arrows.

“Why are we here,” he asked, struggling to keep his voice steady. It wouldn’t do to lose it now.

“I’m here because I want you to be happy, Rumplestiltskin. You deserve it.”

He was quiet as he stared at the Wall. His home was on the other side. It was where he belonged.

But Belle was here, on this side. She could not cross and he could not live without her.

“I don’t think I’d be happy there anymore.” Not after meeting Belle.

“It’s cozy,” she offered, with a teasing smile.

“I like cozy,” he agreed. He licked his dry lips, his eyes flicking from the Wall to Belle. “But I don’t want to go. Not without you.”

She squeezed her lips together trying not to smile. She was practically glowing with joy. “And what will you give me, Rumplestiltskin?”

He blinked at her once, then handed her the knife, the one with his name on it that only seemed to work for her anyway. “Adventure. And—” He gulped a breath and let it out in a shaky whoosh. “And my heart. If you want it,” he added, quickly.

She took the knife from him and studied it in the pale moonlight, then gazed up at the stars above them. The Rose was visible just above the treeline and she smiled up at her friends twinkling above.

“They’re dancing for us, you know.” she told him sweeping her hand up towards the heavens. “Dancing for us. I can see my sisters still and they are happy.” she turned back toward him and handed the knife back. “I don’t need any offering from you, Rumplestiltskin.”

He nodded his head and took it from her where it dangled loosely in her grip. He didn’t expect her to love him back. Not a plain human with nothing to offer someone as amazing as Belle. He wanted to tell her it was okay. That he understood, but when he opened his mouth nothing came out.

She touched his hand with her fingertips startling him out of his reverie. “Do you know why I fell?” she asked him, looking at him earnestly, waiting until he shook his head at her before continuing.

She pushed back the hair from his forehead, running her fingers through it before tucking it back over his ear and cupping his cheek. He leaned into her touch, memorizing the feel of her against his skin wishing that this could last forever.

She let out a gasp, then smiled at him with a soft, tremulous laugh. “I fell because you wished, Rumplestiltskin. You wished hard enough and true enough to knock me out of the sky and send me here. To you.” Her fingers twitched, bringing him closer to her upturned face. “What did you wish for?” she whispered, her sweet breath ghosting over his face.

He licked his lips, watching her face for any sign of duplicity, but Belle was honest and true and he knew he could trust her. “I wished for love,” he told her, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall.

She stood up on her tiptoes, barely touching her lips to his and breathed, “I did, too.”

Rumplestiltskin’s eyes fluttered closed as their lips met. His heart trembling within his chest while the butterflies that had kept him company for almost a week nose-dived and spun until he was dizzy from the taste of her. Her hands were buried in his hair holding him fast, which was crazy because there was no place else he’d rather be than right here kissing Belle. He groaned as her mouth parted, allowing his tongue to sweep the inside of her mouth, relishing her softness and how her tongue moved against his.

She fit into his arms perfectly, molding herself against him until the stars above couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. He felt a sudden brightness, as if they had been kissing all night and the sun had risen. Rumplestiltskin cracked his eyes open a notch to peek, but it wasn’t the sun. It was Belle, glowing as he’d never seen before, just for him and he kissed her again with renewed vigor to see just how bright she could shine.

At last, they pulled away with breathless, delirious gasps, Belle’s light slowly fading as she came down from the kiss induced euphoria.

“I think I would like a cozy little house,” she said, still panting a bit.

“Really?” he said, smiling into her hair.

“Yes. By the seaside. After some more adventures?”

“We can have both,” he murmured, kissing her along her temple.

“Both,” she agreed happily.

Rumplestiltskin took up his knife and asked Belle where she wanted to go next.

They had many grand adventures and made many new friends, and also a few enemies. But those are stories best told another day.


End file.
